"It was him."
Confucius stood upon the plain and raised his head, his probing, burning gaze meeting that of the middle-aged man standing atop the Mechanism Vermilion Bird.
"I saw long ago that this man was no ordinary fish in a pond. Seeing him again today, it is indeed so."
"The Mohist School—opposing aggression, universal love, a world of great harmony. It truly is a grand ideal, but alas, it is ultimately nothing more than an impossible dream of carefree peace."
Confucius possessed a profound understanding of human nature and the laws of the world.
Take Mozi's Mohist ideals, for instance: loving everyone without distinction. That was a goal almost impossible to achieve!
The reason was simple. All beings had thoughts, and their ideas differed, making unity impossible. Their desires were endless and could never be satisfied. So long as living beings still had desires, [universal love] could never be realized.
The essence of desire was selfishness—seeking one's own benefit.
Confucius continued, "But it cannot be denied that Mozi's Mohism provides the greatest practical help to the common people among the Hundred Schools, standing alongside the Agricultural School."
The Mechanism Vermilion Bird descended.
Mozi leaped down from atop the Mechanism Vermilion Bird.
The Mohist disciples followed suit, landing in orderly rows behind Mozi. Their presence was majestic and solemn.
Mozi walked before Confucius and gave him a deep bow. "Greetings, Master Kong."
Confucius nodded and returned the salute. "Master Mo, I trust you have been well."
"Moo, moo, moo."
Just then.
The lowing of a cow drifted leisurely over from afar.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
They saw an old Green Ox swaying along the earthen Official Road.
An elderly man sat cross-legged upon its back.
He wore coarse hemp clothing, his hair mottled with white and his face aged.